Thunderer vs Warrior
by Katharos
Summary: A Thunderer/Warrior game from the POV of two off duty Aurors… Arabella and Fortis This is set in the same universe as my Dark Side of the Moon fic, using two charecters from it. Please R&R!


Title: Quidditch; Thunderer vs. Warriors

Author: Katharos

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language, angst, 

Disclaimer: I don't own the wizard world, Quidditch, Thunderers or Warriors or Arabella Figg's name. I DO own her personality and job choice, and Fortis is all mine!

Summary: A Thunderer/Warrior game from the POV of two off duty Aurors… Arabella and Fortis

Authors Note: Readers of my fic Dark Side of the Moon will recognise the two main characters from chapter six, Death Eaters and Aurors. 

Authors Note2: I was staring at a blank computer screen waiting for inspiration to hit so I could write the next chapter of DSotM when this plot bunny bit and wouldn't let go! This is just a little background to the partnership between Arabella and Fortis and a look at one of the most volatile games possible in Quidditch. Arabella and Fortis will not be making another appearance in DSotM, but they will play an important part in the tentatively planned sequel. Hope you enjoy! Katharos.

Quidditch: Thunderer vs. Warriors

Arabella pushed through the heaving crowds, sweltering in the Australian heat and following the broad back of her partner. For once I'm actually glad he's so damned big, she thought grumpily. At least I won't be able to loose him in this crowd. A body slammed into her and she staggered, her hand plunging into her robes to grab her wand as she whirled to face her assailant. A blond, tanned surfer type with a lot of muscle in the arms and apparently none between his ears grinned at her, calling a cheerful sorry, his eyes very obviously checking her out. The word 'dude' had probably been created just for him. Arabella's eyes narrowed as she glared menacingly at his back as he headed away through the crowd, apparently blindly unaware of just how near he had come to being cursed into the middle of next week. Probably missing some vital equipment. Arabella decided frostily as she withdrew her hand from her wand and tugged her robes back into place. 

Starting after her partner once more Arabella raised her eyes to the sky despairingly. |What did I do to deserve this? She wondered mournfully. Blinding sun, sweaty bodies, heaving crowd, testosterone levels running high- oh yes, just my idea of the perfect Saturday afternoon she decided sarcastically. It's your own fault, she decided as she kicked at the kneecap of a particularly large member of the male species who was blocking the way. She pulled it though; the man probably wasn't a Death Eater and strode past. If you hadn't let yourself be talked into this you could be on the shooting range- Alistair said he had come up with a new curse he wanted you to try out. A small smile touched her lips as she thought of Alistair- barely taller than her with his glasses and long hair that was always falling into his eyes but which he refused to cut, an eternal teenager. Hardly the person you would imagine to be one of the most effective curse-creators the Ministry of Magic possessed.

And instead I'm here; she thought grumpily, elbowing a buxom blond in an outfit more reminiscent of a Muggles bikini than a set of wizard robes as she went past- the woman's breasts were blocking the pathway. It was all Fortis' fault she decided in an abrupt turn around. He was the one who had talked her into this, waxing eloquently about the 'Noble Sport of Quidditch.' Arabella snorted. Yeah right, she thought, he just wants to watch the fight that'll break out. And a fight would break out- you could always count on a Thunderer/Warrior game for that. She let her eyes rove cynically over the heaving stands. Not that she didn't enjoy a good game of Quidditch- enjoyed it even more when she was one of the ones playing in it- but honestly half of the men here, and probably half of the women as well, were just here to see the fight. Arabella sighed as she was at last able to drop down into her seat next to her partner, at last able to escape the press of bodies that had all her instincts clamouring for attention. Just great.

She glanced sideways at Fortis in the chair next to her. The touch of silver appearing at his temples hadn't been there five years ago, and actually made him look distinguished. Arabella glanced down at the amount of food covering her partner's lap- including rotten tomatoes for throwing at the referee. Maybe somewhere else, she decided, where he's not acting like a five year old and a teenager rolled into one.

Fortis glanced sideways at her and grinned as he saw the disgruntled expression on her face.

"Stop grinning like an idiot," she told him sternly. That only made him grin all the wider. Arabella sighed and leaned back in her chair letting her eyes roam idly over the people in the stands as Fortis stuffed his face next to her. 

"WELCOME!" the announcers voice boomed suddenly, silencing the crowd. "WELCOME TO THE THUNDERES/WARRIORS MATCH OF THE YEAR!" the scoreboard was wiped clean of advertisements and the scores appeared, 0/0. "I GIVE YOU CONNER!" A blur zipped out of the entrance and Arabella tuned the rest of the introduction out, her eyes continuing to rove across the stands. Suddenly she stiffened as her eyes landed on the Top Box from which the announcer continued to roar out introductions. There was a figure there…It wasn't much, just a pale blonde head and a feeling…

"Fortis," she hissed, tugging on his arm. "Fortis! Give me your omnioculars!"

"Wait a minute, Arabella," Fortis said distractedly, his eyes glued to the lenses of the glasses that had been his pride and joy since he had brought them at the Quidditch World Cup. Arabella gave up her ineffectual tugging on her partners robe and made a lunge for them just as the announcer called the last players name.

"AND OUR REFEREE!" the announcer boomed as a figure walked onto the field, but the name was lost under a storm of booing and Arabella finally managed to get hold of the glasses as Fortis loosened his hold to throw the rotten tomatoes. Fumbling, she drew them up to her eyes and then cursed as she realised that the dial had been spun and the settings lost. Quickly she fiddled with the dial, cursing in a low steady stream as she did so. She managed to fix it just as the first foul was called- mere seconds into the game- and swung them up to her eyes to look threw them.

Arabella froze, ice curling in her insides as her eyes drank in the sight of Lucius Malfoy, perfect in his five hundred galleon robe, his pale blond her hair slicked back, not a hair of it out of place, a faint sneer on his face. Lucifer indeed, she though quietly as her mind was drawn away from the game, her ears not hearing as the Warriors were awarded their fifth foul in as many minutes, she was far away and long ago, at the height of Voldemort's power. She was cold, even under the Australian sun, for she was in a frosted field at midwinter in England, her best girlfriend, Erin, at her feet, found a month after being taken by Death Eaters. She knelt at her friend's side, frostbitten fingers clinger to ones even colder, eyes darting about her friends body helplessly, taking in the tears in her robes, the twisted bones and ugly burns and the blood… so much blood… Fortis was a solid warm presence at her back. Her friend stirred, her fingers tightening briefly on Arabella's as she moaned, her eyes flickering open, glazed with pain, but she knew where she was. 

"'Bella," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. Arabella smiled shakily through tears.

"I told you not to call me that," she whispered back, her voice trembling.

"Cold," Erin murmured, eyes falling shut. "'m cold."

"No!" Arabella shouted, terror suddenly gripping her. "No, dammit, Erin, you can't die!" she was shaking, trembling in fear. "Who did this to you?" she whispered

"Lucius." Erin's eyes shot open. Arabella stared down into them. Green eyes. Erin had beautiful green eyes. They weren't beautiful any more, they were blood shot and pain filled. Erin stared up at her, and there was purpose in her face. "Lucius Malfoy." She sagged back down, he strength fading fast now, her eyes closing for the last time, hiding those beautiful green eyes. "Marcus," she murmured and then the hand Arabella was holding went limp. Arabella laid it down gently, smoothing it down flat on the cold hard earth of the ploughed field and stood. Then suddenly she was shaking and crying and she was falling backwards and Fortis was there to catch her and he cradled her in strong warm arms as she cried. Marcus, Erin's fiancé, stayed just long enough to arrange for the funeral and then requested a suicide mission. He completed his mission and joined his Erin, and Arabella lost another friend to Lucius Malfoy.

Arabella blinked and she was back, back in the stands of a Thunderer/Warrior game in Australia as the day waned, staring through a pair of omnioculars t Lucius Malfoy. She shuddered, suddenly unable to bare staring at the pale form of the man who had tortured one of her friends to death and killed the other as surely as if he had fired the curse himself and who had got away free and tore the omnioculars from her face and thrust them at Fortis, who looked at her with understanding and shared pain in his eyes. Biting her lip, she forced the memories to the back of her mind where they stayed most of the time, only leaping out to ambush her in unguarded moments or in dreams. She forced herself to concentrate on the game.

The Thunderers and the Warriors were lined up facing each other, shaking their fists and yelling. It would be only a few seconds now… The referee was blowing frantically on his whistle, waving his arms ineffectually in the air- then there was a flash of light and the referee disappeared. The were gasps and screams and not a few cheers from the crowd, and with the weak symbol of authority and order gone, the Thunderers and Warriors screamed a war cry and charged at each other.

Arabella's Auror trained mind automatically tracked the beam of light, calculating where it had come from in the stands- near her so- Struck by a dreadful thought she whirled to look at Fortis and just caught a seconds glimpse of a wooden rod disappearing into his robes.

"Fortis, you-" she began.

"Come on," Fortis said gleefully, grabbing her hand and yanking her to her feet and setting off into the near rioting crowd, pulling her along. She yanked her hand free, glaring at him though she felt it soften a bit as he glanced back and flashed her a blinding smile. She pulled her wand out- just in case- she justified quickly to herself and glanced around, automatically watching her partner's back. The two teams were engaged in a free fall in midair, and it looked as if wands were also being used- she was sure the Warriors keeper didn't normally have three arms. She wondered at the intelligence level of the Thunderer who had cursed him though- all he had done was give the keeper an extra fist to hit with. She looked up towards the Top Box and felt a surge of disappointment when she saw that it had been evacuated- Malfoy was gone. Escaped. Logically she knew that she couldn't have gotten anything on him just for watching a Quidditch game but still… it was rare that she even got a chance to see him since he had taken that restraining order out on her…

Snarling, she threw herself into the fight. Wands were now being used and the bright bursts of colour exploded everywhere she looked. Quickly she blocked a Furunculous curse and sent a Jelly-Legs at the woman who had cast it and in the same movement kneed a man who was creeping up on her partner in the groin, watching in satisfaction as he crumpled to the ground, clutching at his private parts before wheeling and blocking a hex sent her way. 

Arabella fell into an old familiar pattern that fitted over her like a favourite top, although the worst the curses being used could do was humiliate or temporarily disfigure. Still she found herself grinning wildly as she worked towards the exit, the old excitement rushing through her veins and she could almost feel the matching emotion in Fortis. The announcer continued to roar, doing nothing to calm the riot but excitedly yelling encouragement. At last they reached the exit, both of them untouched and slipped through into the darkening outside just as the Magical Law Enforcement teams apparated in to quell the riot. Arabella was panting, tired but exhilarated, Fortis' own heavy breathing clear though the night air to her.

She looked up at him, looked at his widely grinning face and sparkling eyes, looking like the tall boy she had treated to a large dose of attitude when they had first been partnered together as rookies so many years before, saw the same grinning face she had seen as he had joked and chivvied her until he finally got past the barriers she had erected against the prejudiced old men who had instructed her, who had seen only a young, small, female who should have been fishing for a catch in the high elite of the Wizarding world, no matter that the most deadly war against the Dark Forces was being waged, who saw only cannon fodder at best and couldn't help it. She started to laugh. She laughed until she was bent over at the middle and tears were streaming down her face and Fortis was laughing with her. At last she was able to straighten up and she looked up at her partner, a smile on her face as Fortis gazed down at her fondly.

"Feel better?" he asked

"Much," she said, sighing contentedly as he pulled her into a hug, tucking her body against his. Arabella sighed contentedly, leaning against him. Any other male who tried to do this would be singing soprano very quickly, but this was Fortis, her partner, who trusted her to watch his back, as she trusted him to watch hers. She looked up at him. Seeing not only the grinning, green lad who had broken though her barriers, but the stern faced man with whom she had fought back to back with on the worst battlefields, whose wounds she had tended with an improvised bandage from her robe, a dash of water an a prayer- and who had then returned the favour. The man with whom she had mourned friends who had fallen before the encroaching darkness, then the man she had gotten falling down drunk with the day the Dark Lord had been defeated- not by some super-curse or one of the most powerful wizards of their day- but by a one-year-old baby. This was the friend she had come crying to, who had held her as her two-year marriage had ended in shouts and curses and angry words, and who had just chivvied her out of a depression she had not even been aware she was falling into. Arabella pulled back slightly so she could see Fortis' face.

"Thanks," she said softly

"Anytime," he replied, just as softly. 

It wasn't love, not of the romantic kind. They had never been lovers and they never would be. But in so many ways they were closer than any wife or husband ever could be to them- it was one of the reasons that her marriage had failed. They would argue and threaten and sometimes even come to blows. But each would beared the Dark Lord in his den if the other was there to watch their back.

Arabella grinned suddenly. "You know though," she warned, "this doesn't let you avoid revenge."

Fortis winced "It doesn't?" he asked in a little boy's voice, over doing the act as always.

Arabella shook her head firmly. "Nope." She said. She grinned evilly. "You know, I think I could get a pair of tickets for the Veela line Fashion Show from Alison- she's always after me to do something feminine."

Fortis looked suitably horrified. "But, Arabella," he began quickly; trying to dredge up a counter argument to something her knew was inevitable. "You don't like that kind of thing?" he suggested weakly.

Arabella grinned. "I know," she said gleefully, "But you'll hate it!" Fortis paled- Arabella wondered idly how he had learned to do that on command- and opened his mouth to try something else but before he could get a word out a black bullet in the shape of an owl swooped down, dropping a parchment into his hand. His mouth shut with a snap. "What is it?" Arabella asked straightening, all joking forgotten. Fortis was frowning down at the parchment. "Urgent dispatch from the Ministry," he said absently, ripping the twine of the letter and unrolled it. Arabella watched, growing more and more uneasy as Fortis continued to grow paler and paler as he read through the parchment. This time she knew it wasn't an act. "What?" she asked urgently. Fortis looked up, his face ash-white.

"Voldemort has risen."

Please R&R!


End file.
